Welcome to Gaia! ::

Freakshow clings tightly to his awesome new weapon. He wraps a fist around the top for better leverage and slowly positions himself sitting with his back to the apron. He huffs, red in the face from the extended period in a very, very painful hold. The atmosphere in the arena begins to change as the fans start transitioning between boo and yay.

While Freak wasn't quite sure on the semantics of Kings location and strategy, the 20 year veteran had a sort of natural intuition with regards to ring positioning. Acting on this intuition, he jabsthe Freak-Hammer in the only direction that felt natural to him, straight up.

Freak knew he'd found his target. He lets his weapon drop to the floor, out of sight out of mind, before craning his head back to check on the floored opponent. The bells went off in his head. In a moment of frantic abandonment he tries too quickly to get up to his feet. He winces, "AH-" His legs buckle beneath his weight and he falls back against the side of the ring for support.

Not wanting to waste another solitary movement Freak pivots around and throws himself under the bottom rope into the ring. He kicks and shoves himself towards King, one bum leg dragging behind him as he hurls himself ontop of the opponent. With his weight sprawled across his shoulders he cradles both legs, not wanting to leave anything to chance.

Freakshow flops off of King then shits up and stares at the referee in disbelief. He holds three fingers up to the man, to which he shakes his head in rigorous disapproval. Not wanting to dwell on things any long than absolutely necessary, Freak knee walks back towards King, still uncomfortable with standing.

Kneeling over the opponent, he reaches down to grab a handful of hair. With a bit of illegalish leverage, he'd begin throwing will measured precision shots at King, his knuckles aimed at the cut over the eyebrow. He'd throw the piston like strikes for as long as the ref permitted it.

"Alright arlright sheesh!" Freak relents on the punching temporarily, not wanting to be disqualified for his use of the closed fist. Instead of continuing his punching he grips Kings head with both hands and shoves down towards the unpadded mat, looking to grind the fan favorites face straight into the splintered wood of the exposed floor.

Freakshow keeps his grips on King as he shoves the mans face into the harsh texture o the floor. Staying in perpetual motion and ignoring the pleas of the referee, he lifts his opponent up to a verticle base, still hobbling on one foot. Off balance and discombobulated he lets go of King and throws himself backwards into the ropes, letting the momentum take him forward. Nothing special, nothing complex, he'd stagger recklessly forward, aiming the front of his head towards Kings for a sloppy running headbutt.

Freakshow belly flops straight onto the ground, unable to do much besides turn his head to avoid busting his nose open. Smacks against the ground hard, off sheer momentum he bounces back up to his feet, the wind forced right out of him, staggers around for a moment, before flopping back down onto the floor. "Awwwgh!.." He turns over onto his back then reaches up for the lights, his head swimming while he strains vainly to sit up..

Freakshow manages to shove his shoulder up off of the ground after the two count. He rolls over onto his stomach, his head pounding, his equilibrium all screwed up. Clumsily he begins trying to stand.